Changing: A Rant
by Cherie-24-Addict
Summary: Even after five years of knowing Tony, he's still the same old playboy.  He hasn't changed a bit - at least, he hasn't according to Ziva.  How much will his latest date make her crack?  Part 2 of the Quinceanera series.  T for safety. Some fluff involved.


**_A/N: Well, it's November 1st, and guess what that means - 13 days until Iwait4therain's birthday! This is Part 2 of 15 for her quinceanera series, and I will be updating with one thing every day for her, because she is special and I love her to death. Enjoy and review!_**

"Heading out for the night, Tony?" Ziva asked, cocking her head to the side as she looked across the bullpen at her partner.

"Yeah. Got a date," he said. He didn't sound too enthusiastic, though, and he was obviously in no rush to get going.

"With…Ethel?" Ziva clarified, squinting up her nose at the ancient-sounding name. From Tony's view, the facial expression was adorable.

"No, Zee-vah," he said in a nasally voice. "I've got a _new_ date."

"Another Playboy rabbit?" she sniffed, leaning forward against her desk.

"Bunny," he said.

"What?"

"Playboy bunny, Probette," he clarified.

"Do _not_ call me that!" she hissed. "I will shoot you where you stand."

"Nice try," he laughed. "You wouldn't do that."

"I still have my Mossad knives, Tony," she said with a lust-filled glint in her eye. "I have been meaning to…um…_sharpen_ my skills."

Tony visibly gulped.

She laughed, but it wasn't throaty, deep, and rich. It was empty, without real glee or happiness. "Oh, Tony," she said, more to herself than to him, "at least I know you will never change."

"What? I'd like to think I've changed for the better over the past five years," he scoffed, authentically hurt.

"But you have not, Tony," she said, shaking her head.

"Well, gee, thanks," he breathed sarcastically. "I'm gonna be going now." He grabbed his keys and briefcase, stood up, and walked out of the bullpen and towards the elevator. He turned around to face his Israeli ninja, and his face softened. "You haven't changed a bit either, Ziva." Then, as the elevator doors opened with a ding, he stepped inside and watched her until the doors closed. Agent David was alone in the bullpen at eight o'clock on a Friday night.

And _that_ was the moment where Ziva Judith David went decidedly crazy. Talking to oneself was considered insane, even for Ziva.

"Going out on another date," she scoffed. "One of those girls. Blonde hair, blue eyes, taller than Abby and certainly more…voluptuous. They have their minds on one thing and one thing only. _Tony _has his mind on one thing and one thing only.

"He said he'd changed. Ha! He is still as lustful, as immature as he has always been. Moving on to the next girl every so often? There is practically a new sorority girl every week. If he has changed and wants to settle down, does he think he can do it with some blonde bimbo?

"If he has changed, then why did he choose the team over Jeanne? If he has changed, why did he come to my apartment? If he has changed, why did he rescue me from Somalia?"

As she continued with her own personal rant, her soliloquy grew louder and louder so that the security camera could pick up every would she was saying.

"The old Tony would never have let me die, even though he did not seem happy to have me back. It was just like when I first joined the team: hostile, unwanted, unnecessary. I have _always_ been unnecessary where he is concerned.

"If he has changed, why did he not attend my ceremony? Even _McGee_ came to my ceremony, damn it, and he could not circumvent authority like he always does for just _one day?_ He had to follow Vance's orders that _one day?_

"If he has changed, then why am I still stuck in the same place I always have been? Why is the timing just as bad as it always has been?

"What's changed this time, Tony?" She slammed her desk as hard as she could, imagining herself in an interrogation room in Tel Aviv. "What has changed, that you are somehow able to see what has always been in front of you?"

Her voice slipped inside her body on the last word, and as tears brimmed in her eyes, a single one spilled over the mighty fortress that guarded her every thought.

"I do not have time for this," she muttered to herself. "I will go home, and I will read a book, and it will _not_ be about one of his _stupid_ movies. I will make myself happy, as I always have. As I will always have to do."

Fueled by the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she sprang out of her seat, grabbed her bag, and started for the elevator. Of course, a decidedly warm body was blocking her path.

"What are you doing here?" she growled, though no fire came through in her question.

There was no answer from the Italian man.

"What are you _doing_ here?" she pleaded. "Why are you here?"

"Because you're here."

"How much did you hear?" she asked in a low voice.

He sighed. "Enough."

She expected him to turn around and go back into the elevator, but instead his strong arms brought her thin body to his. She tentatively wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed in the musky scent that had always been there.

"Why are you really here?"

"You stole my cell phone," he whispered silkily. "And something I said didn't sit well with you."

She sighed and began to shrink away from him. This was it. He was going to leave now. The men in her life always left somehow. Imagine her surprise when his grip tightened on her.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "Why are you really here?"

Tony looked down at her water-ridden face, her thick, curly hair, how the shape of her body fit perfectly against his. He knew that both the question and the answer were different than they had been before. If he hadn't changed at all, he would be running as far away from this moment as possible, even if it meant relocating to Timbuktu on a moment's notice.

But this was Ziva. If five years of having her as his partner had taught him anything, it was to look sharp and to take risks when needed, to do whatever it takes to make sure your partner feels safe.

Ziva had never had any competition. But times had changed, her desires had probably changed. His had changed, too.

As he leaned closer to her lips and cradled her face in his hand, he whispered, "I'm changing, Ziva," finally sealing his lips against her own.

**_Come to the dark side and review - we have chocolate._**


End file.
